Unexpected Consequences of Motherhood ~Gatherings from Ireland # 343

Running Repairs by the Life Guards’ Hut in Tramore, Co.Waterford

There I was down the beach the other evening taking a few photographs of  kite-surfers at sunset when another sort of glowing orange dug its way into my peripheral vision.

That JCB catapulted me back to years when the whole landscape, real and imaginary, was about Moving Machines, everything from diggers, dumpers, tractors, JCB’s, fire engines, trains, articulated and not-so-articulated trucks, and most of all bin lorries.

Yes, there was a time when Mondays meant waiting, no matter what,  for the bin lorry to arrive in all its glory and watch it heave, slant, empty and return our bin and then jump into the car and follow it around Tramore to gain even more insight into its inner workings.

I’d spent over thirty years  running away from bin lorries as they squeezed and crunched the town’s rubbish but a little son who needs to know EXACTLY how the bin lorry works somehow (and I still don’t quite understand it) transforms bin lorries into magical machines with a delicious aroma.

Santa even got wind of this magic and brought the best present ever … a bin lorry with two  silvery bins, just like ours,  that could be emptied all through the Christmas holidays and every single day for years after.

Flash forward 15/16 years and we’ve arrived at Driving Theory Tests and L-Plates. How has this happened?

Author: socialbridge

I am a sociologist and writer from Ireland. I have worked as a social researcher for 30 years and have had a lifelong passion for writing. My main research interests relate to health care and sense of place.

10 thoughts on “Unexpected Consequences of Motherhood ~Gatherings from Ireland # 343”

  1. ‘I don’t remember getting older, when did they?’ – I think that’s a line from ‘Fiddler on the Roof’, but in any case – yes – how time flies! I have a 4 year-old nephew who is similarly obsessed as your boy was and again, the bin lorry pressie was the highlight of his birthday this year. 🙂

  2. I love the images in the language: bin lorry. It sounds so much better than ‘trash truck’ or ‘garbage truck.’ It reminded me of searching all over town for an “orange dump truck” after J’s visit to Santa.

      1. Trash men or garbage collectors is the only thing I ever heard, which of course, brings to mind the Memphis Garbage Collectors strike for better working conditions. Oh, and I might add that in parts of the Delta, they use incarcerated men to collect empty the trash bins. That story on my blog might have been one of those ‘under the radar’ items. What are yours called?

        1. I have the height of respect for our bin men and can’t imagine them being viewed almost as garbage themselves. The world can be a horrible place but hopefully good wins through. I saw a lovely note on a bin here in Tramore the other day which read: ‘Dear Mr. Binman, thank you very much for taking our rubbish away. We appreciate it hugely.’

  3. Gosh, I see Safia commented way back when… wonder what’s become of her?
    As to this post, I love. Bin Lorry is so much more poetic than garbage or trash or dump trucks. And to answer your question… we call them garbage truck drivers… so unsexy 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: